Orchestra of Three
by Erena G.T. Rose
Summary: Haji x Saya x Solomon. Oneshot. Different from one another, they may be...but they fall into perfect sequence...as an orchestra of three.


"**Orchestra of Three"**

His arm moved back and forth, drawing and re-drawing the bow across the strings each time. His fingers, on the neck, moved slowly, precisely. One string, one note. A perfect song, spilling from within him, dedicated to one person.

Silver eyes opened slowly, eyeing the others. The one who he both hated and craved stood in the furthest corner, head bowed, violin tucked beneath his chin. Soft, blonde waves fell over his forehead and into his eyes—deep cerulean pools which were focused on _him._

Haji was not surprised.

The cello's deeper tones mingled with the mid-range and high notes that Solomon evoked from his instrument; despite their mutual distrust of one another, they were attracted…by the music…and by _her._ She requested their song together and for her, they would do anything…

...even if it was to be done together.

She was there now, dancing slowly, back and forth in the middle of the room, her eyes closed. She hummed softly, quietly—and unlike her sister, her music was for them and them alone. She did not crave the lime-light or recognition…and her song was no siren-spell. But it _was_ beautiful, pure and harmonic.

The three of them fit so well together that it made Solomon smile in bitter understanding. Dressed in all black, he stood in the shadows and played, as Haji did, their eyes meeting.

And there she was, _their _Queen. Dancing, spinning. Garbed in gossamer and silk, her dress swirled around her knees, a fitting shade of deep crimson. Her hair, long once more, fell to her mid-back and lips were full, pink. Fresh from feeding—on Haji and no other—she was lively, feverish. A blush was rising across her cheeks and her humming was growing louder.

Like a pure tornado of energy, she spun in the center of the room, her arms out at her sides.

Eyes locked together, Solomon and Haji stroked the bows faster, fingers moving over the strings with swift precision; the tempo increased at Saya's unspoken command…

…It was like a coming climax, building and building unbearably. They hated one another—and yet _craved…desired. _That fire, that exquisite flame that sizzled in both of them—all of them—was a raging inferno here, in this song. They played, like the instruments of her immense pleasure, and they watched…each other, eyes burning…

…and when the crescendo crashed through them all, their Queen threw her hands up and spun once more, falling down to the carpet, lying down on her back, redwood-brown eyes staring upward at the roof while a silly smile moved over her lips. Childlike, pure…_beautiful and indescribably fine._

Eyes of silver and cerulean were locked together in a battle of wills, stormy and turbulent. Their bodies—inhuman and untamed—raged at them to go to her, bury themselves inside her. Take her, claim her..as their own. But they could not…she was _Saya, _not Diva. No common coupling, no frenzied, heated mating when their minds—and hers—were so significantly addled. She was much to good…sweet. _Everything._

Distrustful but in harmony—sated but burning; both laid aside their instruments and moved across the room to her side, falling on their knees to be by her. She beckoned to them, called them closer and they looked at each other with suppressed hatred as they obeyed her. There was love and hate for each other in their hearts—but only love for her. Always for her.

Anything at all for Saya.

Lying at her side, they each ran careful fingers over her arms, stopping to feel the beat of her pulse in the crook of her elbow; blue veins, full of powerful, rich blood running beneath supple, pale flesh. They craved, they lusted…

Saya smiled up at them, took each by the hand and tugged them closer until they pressed her between them, bodies melding. She sighed, "My princes." She kissed each on the cheek and snuggled into the thick Persian carpet. With eyes uncharacteristically open and friendly, Solomon tossed Haji a bemused glance which the darker man returned.

Such innocence, such beauty—their Queen.

They laid there beside her and though their bodies did not require rest, they closed their eyes and drifted to sleep, the sound of Saya's heartbeat solid and comforting in their ears.

Because their song—their orchestra of three—was so much better than any fiery mating could ever be.

**The End**


End file.
